


Deleted Scenes

by Avengerz



Series: Roomies [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Has a Therapy Dog, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avengerz/pseuds/Avengerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are scenes or alternate storyline ideas that didn't make it into the final production of "Our House"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alternate Opening

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, "Our House" isn't long enough (or, quite frankly, good enough) to warrant a "deleted scenes" fic, but I scrapped roughly 2.5k words of fic in the writing of a 5k fic, so I figured someone might want to read it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate opening to the entire fic, where Tony would have been Bucky's assigned roommate at MIT, instead of driven together by necessity.

Bucky doesn’t meet his roommate until they’re three weeks into the semester.

He doesn’t run into him at orientation, doesn’t see him on moving-in day, doesn’t catch so much of a glimpse on the guy, even when classes start.

A week after classes officially start, he visits the housing department to make sure he actually _has_ a roommate.

“Of course you have a roommate,” the woman at the front desk scoffs. Her fake nails clack against her keyboard. “He’s, uh… Anthony Stark, a junior enrolled in the engineering department.”

Bucky nods, thanks her, and hastily escapes her disapproving gaze. He’s got a name, now, but there’s still no evidence that Anthony Stark, whoever he is, even exists. Stark’s designated bed is still bare of sheets, his desk is empty, and no one’s been eating any of Bucky’s food, which, Bucky has learned after years of living with Steve, is the most telling sign of a roommate.

It’s weird, but Bucky isn’t too upset about it. It’s nice to have his own space for once, without his meddling sister prying into his stuff or Steve interrupting his studying with the bloody nose he’s somehow acquired.

Then one day, he gets back from his part-time job at the Coop* and there’s someone asleep on his bed. Bucky stares at the figure for a long minute, thoroughly confused. The kid is just that, couldn’t be much older than seventeen, with dark, tousled hair and golden-brown skin. He can’t see much more than that with the way that the kid’s turned away from Bucky, but it’s enough for Bucky to know that he’s never seen this guy before in his life.

He honestly doesn’t know what to do.

What’s the procedure for finding a stranger sleeping in your dorm bed? Should he report it to Coulson, the floor’s RA? It seems kind of rude to wake the kid.

Then Bucky sees the suitcase propped up against the bed frame, the discarded backpack. Ah. This must be his missing roommate, Anthony.

Bucky’s exhausted from a long day of classes and work, and after another minute of staring hard at the back of Anthony’s head and willing him to wake up, Bucky admits defeat and collapses onto the other bed. It’s unmade, without even a pillow, but Bucky’s too tired to care. He pillows his jacket under his head and falls asleep in minutes.

He wakes to the undeniable sensation of someone watching him. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, hoping Becca will get the hint and let him go back to sleep. Then he remembers that he’s not in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn anymore, that Becca’s not there to be waking him up with the force of her gaze, and he jolts upright.

Brown eyes blink at him from across the room, unfazed and unashamed at getting caught. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Bucky stares at the boy, his tired brain working overtime to figure out who, exactly, this is. Oh, right. His roommate.

“Um, hi.” Bucky’s not at his most eloquent this early in the morning. “You must be Anthony.”

“Please,” Anthony waves a dismissive hand, “call me Tony. I hate Anthony, sounds like I was born in the 1800’s.” He grins, wide and bright, and Bucky stares, transfixed. “And you’re Bucky, right? Nice to meet you.”

He reaches out, and Bucky shakes his hand automatically. “You’re in my bed.”

Tony blinks. “I’m… what?”

Bucky fights the urge to blush. He’s _really_ not eloquent in the mornings. “You're, uh, you fell asleep in my bed last night.”

“Oh.” Tony looks down at the bed he’s sitting on. “Uh, sorry? I wasn't really paying attention.

“No, it’s, it’s fine,” Bucky hastens to protest. “I was just...surprised.”

“Well, I’m still sorry.” Tony shoots a tentative smile at Bucky, and he nods in return.

Silence falls.

Bucky casts about desperately for a conversation topic, sorely regretting his comments. “So, you’re an engineering student?”

Tony lights up. “Yeah! Double majoring, actually. Physics and computer engineering.”

“Wow.” Bucky grins at him. “That’s pretty impressive.” To his surprise, Tony’s cheeks flush red.

“Oh, um, yeah, alright. Uh, what are you studying?”

Bucky rubs at the back off his neck. “Mechanical engineering?” The words are obviously uncertain. “We’ll see, I mean, if that actually ends up happening.”


	2. Missing Scene - Coffee Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene set directly after Tony blows up Bucky's coffee maker that didn't make it into the final story.

"You couldn't have waited until the sun was above the horizon to blow up our kitchen?" Bucky glares daggers at Tony's back as the younger man scrubs a washcloth over the soot on the kitchen counter. It's not really working, the black streaking over the counter rather than disappearing, which isn't making Bucky feel any better. He makes no move to help Tony, though, just watches him, arms crossed, from across the kitchen.   
  
"Oh, stop whining." Tony tosses a scornful glance over his shoulder at Bucky. "It's barely singed!"   
  
Bucky looks pointedly towards a cabinet that now lacks half of its door, and Tony rolls his eyes. "It's not like we actually keep our dishes there, they're always in the sink."   
  
"Well, if you actually did them-" Bucky starts hotly, then shakes his head. "Not the point. What were you doing anyways?"   
  
Tony's shoulders stiffen. Bucky, confused and a little concerned, cranes his head to see Tony's face. He only catches it in profile, but it's enough to see the hot blush that colors Tony's tanned cheeks scarlet. Bucky stares, bemused. "Tony?"   
  
"I was trying to improve the coffee maker, okay?" One grimy hand gestures towards the smoldering remains of what Bucky can now recognize as his Keurig. He gapes, horrified. “It takes forever to boil, the cup size is inconsistent, sometimes the brew is watered down and- I mean, I know how grumpy you get in the mornings.” He shoots a sheepish glance at Bucky, and winces at the stony expression Bucky’s sure he’s sporting. “Yeah, like that. Um.” Tony scratches at the back of his neck, leaving another smudge of soot on his nape. “You can use mine until I can fix it.”

 

Bucky glances at the gleaming chrome monster crouched near the fridge. “You know I don't know how the hell that works.” He’s angry, and mature enough to admit it to himself. Thermoses of coffee are the only things that get him through most mornings, and Bucky’s honestly not sure how he’ll survive Tony's “I stayed up all night working and now I need you to come test my bizarre invention” antics.

 

Guilt digs lines around Tony’s eyes. “I'll brew coffee for you every morning,” he promises earnestly. “And I can teach you how to use it!”

 

Bucky's glare doesn't waver, but he already knows he's going to forgive Tony. Though he was far from pleased with the outcome, the fact that Tony wanted to improve his coffee machine for him was almost… sweet. Also, only a heartless bastard wouldn’t cave at Tony’s puppy-dog eyes.

 

“Oh, alright.” Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes at Tony’s quiet cheer. “You're still fixing mine, though,” he adds sternly.

 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Tony nods, so quickly that Bucky suspects he'd been sampling some coffee before the explosion. “And I'll improve-”

 

“It's fine the way it is,” Bucky interrupts hastily. He manages to hold firm against the force of Tony's pitiful gaze this time, but he looks away, just in case. “Now, barista,” he nods towards Tony’s machine. “I need coffee, stat. Now that I'm up I might as well get ready for class.”

 

He can't quite contain his grin when Tony nods eagerly and practically bounces over to make the coffee.


	3. Alternate Scene - The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an extended and slightly different version of the fight between Howard and Tony
> 
> Warnings for language and questionable parenting

The stupidest thing is that Tony really doesn't see it coming. Sure, Howard called to yell at him after every new scandal, cussing him out and threatening to disown him, but his old man always shelled out the money to keep the story out of the papers and he never, ever followed through.

 

Then one morning Tony wakes up in the hospital with a hangover, a broken ankle, three cracked ribs, and a pending underage drinking charge. None of this is anything new (fourth time this semester, actually) but this time, wonder of wonders, Howard is there, pacing back and forth at the base of Tony's hospital bed and glaring at the nurse who has to check Tony's vitals.

 

“So,” Tony starts when the poor woman scuttles away, “have you been replaced with a pod person who actually cares about my wellbeing or did you just come to yell at me in person?”

 

“You almost died,” Howard snarls, and from anyone else it would sound worried, but he just seems irritated by the inconvenience. Tony sighs and leans back into the disgustingly thin hospital pillow, resigning himself to ignoring a lecture. “You jumped from the high board into an empty swimming pool!”

 

“Did I?” Tony replies, bored. “Don't remember that. Then again, I was spectacularly smashed.” He examines his nails. There's some dried blood stuck under his thumbnail. Tony hopes it's not his, but it probably is.

 

“I will not stand idly by while my son kills himself,” Howard growls, and Tony raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

 

“Aw, but you've been doing so well so far. Why stop now?”

 

Howard turns red, which makes Tony smirk. “Your reckless and downright stupid behavior is an embarrassment to the Stark name and unbefitting of my heir!”

 

Tony yawns. “I honestly couldn't give less of ashit, pops. Now could you leave? I'm going back to sleep.”

 

Howard's silent for a moment, and Tony snorts to himself as he turns his back to the man. That lecture was pretty mild, comparatively, but if it satisfied whatever weird paternal instinct that had brought Howard over from New York than whatever.

 

“If this is about Maria-”

 

Tony bolted upright, ignoring the scream of his ribs and the accompanying wail of monitoring equipment. “Don't,” he bit out, pinning Howard with a fierce glare, “don't fucking talk about my mother you piece of-”

 

“She was my  _ wife- _ ”

 

“You're a cheating bastard and she deserved so much better than-”

 

“ _ You watch your tone, young man!  _ I’m still your father-”

 

“Some father! I haven't seen you in five months, you didn't even bother to show up when I got my Bachelors-”

 

“I'm a very busy man, too busy for trifling ceremonies-”

 

“Trifling? I fucking graduated from college,  _ dad-” _

 

“There are brave men and women dying for our country every moment, men that I have pledged to help, and you're throwing a fit because I didn't come to watch you walk across a stage-”

 

“Oh, like you actually care about those soldiers! I had to fucking  _ beg _ you to start our prosthesis line! You don't care about anyone but yourself, you fat, entitled-”

 

“You  _ shut your fucking mouth _ , Anthony, and give me the goddamn respect I  _ deserve-” _

 

“I wish you had died in the car crash instead of mom!”

 

Silence falls.

 

Tony swallows thickly, realizing what he's just said, but he doesn't take it back. He lifts his chin, meeting Howard's shocked gaze evenly.

 

“Okay. Okay.” Howard takes a deep breath and brushes imaginary lint off of his jacket. “Clearly I've been taking the wrong approach with you. I refuse to fund your addiction any longer, Anthony.”

 

Tony frowns. “What?”

 

“You are getting no more money from me. For anything.” Tony feels the bottom drop out of his stomach, but Howard continues, oblivious or, more likely, uncaring of Tony's mounting horror. “You have scholarships, you're clearly an adult capable of making your own decisions, nineteen years old or not, and you can take care of yourself. Until you can prove to me that you're mature enough to be the head of Stark Industries I raised you to be, you won't have an allowance, you won't have access to your trust fund, you will not get any loans from me or the company. Nothing.” Howard pierces Tony with one last disapproving look. “Maybe this can teach you how to grow up.”

  
He strides out, leaving Tony wide-mouthed and utterly lost.


	4. Missing Scene - Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this scene almost immediately after coming out of CA:CW because I needed some joy in my life and I thought giving Bucky a dog would be the way to go about getting some. It was great, but I realized pretty quickly that I wouldn't really be able to fit it into the story. Unfortunately.

Winter had been his therapist’s idea. “Animal companions such as dogs and cats can be great comforts to trauma victims such as yourself,” she had said, watching him with pity-filled eyes. Bucky had hated her and her condescending smile and her talk of trauma and PTSD and triggers but even he had to admit that in this, singular, instance she was right.

 

If Bucky was as religious as his ma wanted him to be, he probably would have said that Winter was a godsend. As it was, the huge, slobbering, overly-friendly husky that Steve had found drowned and half-dead in an alley was possibly the only reason Bucky was able to function as well as he could.

 

In the months just after his accident, Bucky had been a mess. He'd been frustrated with his new disability, lashing out at friends and family when they tried to offer the help he so desperately needed. He was plagued with nightmares about the traumatizing half-hour he had spent trapped beneath the semi that had hit him. He'd sunk into a deep depression, angry at the world and himself for something no one could change.

 

Winter pulled him out of his nightmares, his whining and concerned licks a stark contrast from blinding pain and the steady drip-drip of oil. On the worst days, Winter forced Bucky to get out of bed, if only to make sure there was food in his bowl. And whenever Bucky raged at the unfairness of his situation, Winter was always there to hold while he cried.

 

Now, Bucky was a mostly-functioning adult who went to therapy and was enrolled in one of the best colleges in the country, but he still loved Winter more than he cared for most adults.

 

Still, walking Winter took time and energy that Bucky often lacked, so he was more than happy to foist the duty off onto Tony every once in awhile.

 

“Aw, but Buck, I’ve got homework-”

 

“Hey,” Bucky held the leash out towards Tony with an unrepentant smirk, “you blow up my coffee machine, you walk the dog.”

  
Between them, Winter beamed, just happy to be going on a walk.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't make any promises, but I will say that I am just as interested as some of you in writing a sequel to "Our House." If the stars (and my work schedule) align, maybe it'll actually happen!


End file.
